


Catch You By The Heel

by EquinoxSolstice



Series: High-Heeled V [2]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Anal Fingering, Begging, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Heel Burn, Heel Kink, High Heels, Interquel, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Stiletto Heels, Teasing, lowkey Masochist Dom Jungkook, vixen-in-heels Taehyung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 19:47:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5714938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EquinoxSolstice/pseuds/EquinoxSolstice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jungkook was seriously turning insane. </p><p>It was like the floodgates had been opened, when everything was buried deep inside his body, and honestly, Jungkook could’ve lived that way happily. Ignorance was bliss and Jungkook was now a complete advocate of it, ever since that night in the practice room with Taehyung and his high heels.</p><p>“Poor baby,” Taehyung cooed, tilting his face up so they faced each other, his breaths damp and breathless up close to Taehyung’s mouth. He was caving. Oh, God, Jungkook’s about to spill off the edge and never climb back up to the top. “Let hyung take care of you, okay?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch You By The Heel

Jungkook was seriously turning insane.

It was like the floodgates had been opened, when everything was buried deep inside his body, and honestly, Jungkook could’ve lived that way happily. Ignorance was bliss and Jungkook was now a complete advocate of it, ever since that night in the practice room with Taehyung and his high heels.

Because right now? Jungkook was conscious of _everything_.

He didn’t notice it before, simply because he was too busy being a trainee, and eventually performing once he debuted, but apparently a lot of people thought he was cute. He now could see their lingering looks, their interested glances as the group passed by them with bows and greetings. In their line of work, there was no shortage of beautiful people around, but some were just more appealing than others. Their lean bodies, pretty smiles, bright eyes, and warm voices made him feel… strange, different, with a kind of self-awareness that he hadn’t experienced until now.

This hyperconsciousness made him see... _things_. Touches, glances, actions that seemed completely innocent before now held completely different meanings. Like the way Jin and Namjoon stared at each other… it was as if they were sharing hundreds of memories between them and it looked so private and intimate Jungkook couldn’t meet their eyes properly afterwards. He could see the way their eyes and hands linger on each other, the way their hugs would be longer just a bit more than what could be accepted, the way Jin would bury his head in Namjoon’s shoulder and just _breathe_ , for a second, before pulling himself away like nothing heart-stuttering and earth-shattering happened between them. 

Maybe he was reading too much into it, they had always been affectionate, it was a completely normal thing for all of them… but it didn’t explain Taehyung.

Taehyung, with his box-shaped smile and pearl teeth and unique personality, who turned his world completely upside-down the moment he walked in on him with that infernal red platform feels… who was now initiating so much skinship their fans would faint in shock and happiness if they actually saw it. That kiss in the practice room seemed to spark a dormant wire Jungkook didn’t know existed in himself, and it brought so much _awareness_ he was now losing his mind.

Like Taehyung’s legs. They were toned, shapely, sculpted by many hours in the gym. Not as defined as his or Jimin’s, but the curve of the muscle was visible, and it was made so much apparent when he was wearing his favorite shoes. It was worse when Taehyung chose to wear loose shorts and put his feet on Jungkook’s lap. Jungkook could see the skin of his inner thigh, teasing up until the seam of his shorts and suddenly Jungkook’s hot and hard under his pants, cock filling up between his legs. He ran into the bathroom so fast he all but shoved Taehyung off the couch, and he felt guilty, startling Taehyung like that, but at that moment he didn’t matter. He bit into his arm as he shoved his pants down and panted against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, and the teeth marks dug so deeply their manager gave him a strange look when he saw it later that night. Taehyung had approached him, asking if he was all right, and Jungkook felt the guilt eating away at his stomach as he stuttered a reply.

It was worse with the heels.

They were a normal fixture inside the dorm now, and Taehyung wore them almost every day. Jungkook couldn’t put a finger on it, but seeing Taehyung in heels messed him up in ways that were always intense and never fleeting. Taehyung always paraded it in front of him, as if he knew how much it affected Jungkook, especially when he wore Jungkook’s heels. Just the sight of black leather framing his feet, with the thin straps looping around Taehyung’s ankle oh so _delicately_ had Jungkook salivating and his throat drying at the same time. Add a peek of his perfectly manicured toenail, and Jungkook was lost, helplessly aroused, immediately running far away despite the calls and worried glances of the elder.

That night in the practice room irrevocably changed things. Now, Jungkook always craved for Taehyung’s… _something_. Taehyung’s heat, Taehyung’s lips, Taehyung’s _everything_ , anything that he could give. Dreams about nameless, faceless people pleasuring him had changed into startling clarity— _Taehyung’s body warm and solid against the coldness of the hardwood floor, hips rolling against Jungkook’s own in a sinuous wave, low, Daegu accent groaning “Jungkook-ah,” against his ear, rough fingers tangling in his hair, tugging to the point of almost pleasurable pain, heels digging deep into his lower back_ —and Jungkook would wake up, violently gasping for breath, sticky and sweating under his blankets, and it was a blessing that Namjoon was a heavy sleep, his snores overriding Jungkook’s whimpers as he took to his fist, pumping one, two, three times before coming, hips jackknifing above his bed, with Taehyung’s name on his lips.

Being with Taehyung changed all that. The older would have this sly glint, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that had Jungkook swallowing, had heat flaring inside his skin. “Come with me, Jungkook-ah,” Taehyung would say, would stand up and strut away and Jungkook’s mouth would be dry, would follow him after even if was so obvious to the others what they were going to do, already stiffening under his shorts. Taehyung would slam him against the door, or wall, or push him on the bed then, using his additional height as advantage when he towered over Jungkook and finally kissing him, openmouthed and dirty.

The kisses. They were always rushed, passionate, utterly filthy, and Jungkook knew he had made up for the years he hadn’t pressed lips with someone with how many times he kissed and was kissed, tongues twining and rubbing against each other, teeth catching and nibbling on lips, breaths always harsh and heavy. Taehyung was a patient teacher, coaxed him gently, guided him slowly, and Jungkook was always a fast learner. He went from imitating a dog slobbering over its owner into someone who can reduce anyone into a whimpering mess in a few motions.

“Kookie,” Taehyung breathed against his lips. It was extremely dangerous, they were backstage, for god’s sake, about to perform any minute, their stylists were going to be looking for them and their members were getting ready, but Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to care, pressing Taehyung against the pillar and trying to make sure they didn’t wrinkle their stage outfits, but the urge was getting harder to control  “I— _ah_ ,” his lips were glossy with lipstick and spit, the fingers resting on Jungkook’s neck trembling as Jungkook licked into his mouth with slow, careful intent.  “Let’s go— _haa_ —back, they’ll be looking— _oh_ , for us…” Taehyung moaned quietly, the sound swallowed by Jungkook’s throat as he swallowed, head tilting to the side and pressing his weight completely against the other.

“Not yet… one more…” Jungkook whispered, pulling back to stare into Taehyung eyes for the briefest moment, just an exhale, and he was surging forward again. His hand was going further down, to Taehyung’s side, his hip, around his waist, pulling him completely flush against him. It was Taehyung who led him here, who pulled his hand, cupped his cheeks and pressed their lips together, but Jungkook was finding it hard to stop, just wanted to continue kissing the older, to discover the noises he could make. Taehyung was wearing Jordans with heel inserts and Jungkook was frustrated, suddenly missed the extra centimeters Taehyung had when wearing heels, because it wasn’t the same, it didn’t _feel_ the same, until—

 _“Bangtan Sonyeondan, five minutes.”_ A voice suddenly sounded against their shared earpiece and they jumped, Jungkook almost headbutting Taehyung’s nose as he scrambled to put some distance between them. It was a douse of cold water, reminding him of where they were and what they were about to do and _oh god_ if someone caught them it would be worse than a scandal, it was career suicide. Jungkook was frozen, eyes unseeing as hundreds of scenarios ran around his head. That was extremely reckless, what were they going to do if they were caught?!

“Jungkook.” He looked up, and Taehyung was in front of him, a mussed angel in his tight leather pants and kiss-bitten lips. He was calm, soothing as he cradled his cheeks with both hands, pressing a final, light kiss on his lips.

“It’ll be okay.” He whispered, and Jungkook immediately believed him, all of his worries scattered in the wind, even if they arrived at the side stage just in the nick of time and the members were giving them the side-eye.

* * *

 It was extremely hard for them to find time to be alone.

It was one of the drawbacks from being an idol, constant surveillance, with no freedom to do what you wanted, go where you wanted, and see people you liked. Of course, part of it was also for their safety, but being constantly holed up in a room was suffocating, at worst, extremely claustrophobic. When they were trainees they slowly got used to it, playing with each other and trying to stave off boredom with phones, laptops, and gaming consoles.

At least, until Jungkook discovered a new activity that was time-consuming, exhausting, but extremely pleasurable, all the same.

“Jungkookie~” Taehyung sang from their shared bathroom, and Jungkook peeked out from the towel draped around his head, which he was using to dry his hair. They were overseas for a concert and everything was done and over with, the performance itself, party, _after_ party, film recordings and cameras off, and the managers-slash-staff finally leaving them alone for the night. Early morning would be more accurate, and with all the things they did for the day he would usually be out like a light right now, but his body was wired with a manic, nervous energy he had never felt before. They had decided hotel roommates via rock-paper-scissors, and he had drawn the (un)lucky one for the entire trip. He was restless all day, earning some concerned looks from his members, and he couldn’t burn all the excess energy on stage. He needed to do _something_.

“What, hyung?” They had just finished their livestream on V app, being as silly and outrageous on camera, as always.

Taehyung eventually came out of the bathroom, leaning against the door, smirking, and the towel slipped off Jungkook’s hands to flop pathetically on the floor.

Gorgeous. With no makeup on, Taehyung looked radiant, sexy in his loose sweater and boxers, black stiletto pumps crossing by the ankles. Jungkook exhaled sharply, eyes drawn to the line of Taehyung’s legs as he sauntered closer. Their beds were doubles but one was more than big enough for two of them, as Taehyung prowled closer, sliding into Jungkook’s personal space like a diver gliding into the water, graceful, and completely unexpected.

“Hi.” Taehyung grinned, the Cheshire Cat finally getting the cream and the bird, and Jungkook knew he was going to be devoured. Arms slipped themselves behind his neck, hips making their home on his thighs, worn leather brushing against his knees, the heel resting lightly on his skin. “You look tense.”

Jungkook could smell the faint scent of Taehyung’s body wash, cloy and clinging to his warmed skin, and it was making him dizzy. “A little.”

“Poor baby,” Taehyung cooed, tilting his face up so they faced each other, his breaths damp and breathless up close to Taehyung’s mouth. He was caving. Oh, God, Jungkook’s about to spill off the edge and never climb back up to the top. “Let hyung take care of you, okay?”

Jungkook could only nod, heart beating a mile a minute inside his chest. Taehyung smiled, then suddenly, a touch, a squeeze of fingers digging into Jungkook’s back as Taehyung finally took the plunge that both of them were aching to do so badly. He kissed Jungkook hard and wide, felt the heat of that mouth on his like acid, was going to burn him so fucking raw—but God, he did not care. Taehyung could set him on fire and watch him burn, now that Taehyung had him scraping teeth on lips, fingers kneading into his skin. 

The dam broke.                                                

Jungkook  _surged_ , arms pinning Taehyung against his torso, the loud smack of their clothed bodies colliding going unheard by both of them. But Jungkook didn't care, mouths open and pressed against each other, warm and wet and just good. Hands just went down and yanked Taehyung closer, pressed chest to chest and hip to hip while slipping his fingers under to caress hidden skin, clutching Taehyung against him as he completely, utterly, savoured and devoured.

“Jungkook— _Jungkook_.”  Taehyung’s hands scrabbled for purchase, like he was going to fall, words smeared hot and open on his mouth, desperate. Jungkook growled into him, taking his tongue and sucking on it _hard,_ electricity shooting through his veins.

“I won’t let you go,” Jungkook’s Busan accent was slipping out, rough and wrangled as he pressed kisses on Taehyung’s jaw, air hot and heavy along his lips, his body too hot, the room too cold. “Hyung, I won’t stop.”

“Please, don’t stop—” Taehyung’s breath hitched in his chest; words spoken like a plea to banish a curse, and it made his body align too tightly with Jungkook, the younger just had him so close. His Daegu accent was heavy, syllables slurring themselves as he confessed truths into Jungkook’s mouth. “You have—oh—no idea, just wanted to kiss you in front of the crowd—ah—wanted to show all of them that you’re mine mine mine—!” His voice broke off, words swallowed down as he was kissed thick and deep, Jungkook’s tongue practically fucking into his mouth. The heels dug into the flesh of his thighs and pain bloomed so sweetly unexpected Jungkook groaned, would’ve become rock-hard just from that little zing of sensation alone.

Jungkook grabbed handfuls of Taehyung’s sweater and yanked it up, separating from each other just for the merest second to pull it over Taehyung’s head and tossing to the floor, the sound of Jungkook’s wifebeater ripping under Taehyung’s forceful fingers heard loudly but ultimately considered irrelevant to the grand scare of things.

“Hyung, that’s expensive,” Jungkook murmured, finally touching bare, pale skin, smooth and unblemished, the tension tightened up in his shoulders as the forceful action brought chills down his neck. He gasped, chest dipping visibly, before he could take another breath and try to speak again. “I’ll be scolded.”

“I’ll buy you a new set,” Taehyung muttered back, voice deep and thick, strangled, as Jungkook lunged in, pressing wet and messy kisses on his neck, fingers running delicately up his spine.  “Or I’ll lend you a shirt—god, Kookie—but so help me if you don’t start touching me Jeon Jungkook I will end you—!” Taehyung moaned, voice low and reverberating as Jungkook mouthed down on that delectable neck, suckling on the sweat-drenched skin. Teeth caught on to a strip of skin and _bit_ , Taehyung’s body shuddering, hips grinding on top of him and pleasure sparked behind his eyelids.

“Kookie, no, light marks—” Taehyung groaned, a hand going back to grip at Jungkook’s knee, propping himself up on one knee and Jungkook could suddenly see it, the black stiletto heel making its imprint on the pure white sheets. Taehyung wasn’t a natural dancer but his training showed, starting to rut against his crotch, wet, damp boxers slipping and sliding against each other, fingers flexing on his knees with tension. “You’re so hard for hyung already—”

“ _Fuck_.” Jungkook hissed, blindly reaching for Taehyung’s thigh, sucking another mark on his collarbone, breath leaving a hot trail on Taehyung’s throat. His fingers slid on soft, tight skin and he _pulled_ , hugging Taehyung’s calf closer to him. His fingers trailed down to the shoes Taehyung wore, hand circling around the ankle strap, fingers stroking up the long, thin heel. Seeing Taehyung in his heels never failed to make him insane with want. “Hyung, how far can we go tonight? We have a schedule in the morning, I don’t want to hurt you—”

“Don’t talk about work when I’m about to ride your dick,” Taehyung groaned back, catching his clothed erection on a harsh downstroke that made Jungkook swivel his hips up, hard, just to feel Taehyung’s cock throb against the friction between their bodies. “You’re killing the mood here.”  Another hard press, and the friction sparked _something_ that made his gut and his hips twist. “Oh god, _fuck_ Jungkookie—”

“I’m serious, _hyung_ —!” The honorific was snarled out beneath a clenched jaw as Jungkook’s body shook with the strain of heat shooting up his spine and coursing through him like a discordant vein. He shuddered out a sigh, an overwhelming sensation of the nerves skittering about too hot on his skin. His hips are rocking rhythmically against Taehyung’s, each upstroke has the cloth of his boxers catching at his cock underneath and making him harder–so _needy_ for it—   

Taehyung leaned forward, captured his mouth in a sloppy imitation of a kiss, inhaling Jungkook-flavored oxygen like it was a drug. “I’ll let you fuck me some other time, Kookie. I promise.” And oh _shit_ , Jungkook could come from the thought alone. Going deep inside Taehyung, his insides squeezing him warm and _tight_ — Jungkook gasped, almost slipping off the edge but holding off by the merest skin of his teeth. It would be embarrassing as hell if he did. “But for now, change places with me.” Jungkook was pulled off the bed and he felt like an idiot, standing there with a flushed face and a hard-on, until Taehyung smirked, glancing at him behind his back with an impish smile. Without looking away from Jungkook’s eyes, Taehyung’s fingers teased the edge of his boxer briefs, slipping it off inch-by-inch, baring his body for Jungkook to completely take in wordlessly. Jungkook didn’t know where to look, with so much skin exposed all at once, looking so soft and kissable.

With a giggle, Taehyung dropped the boxers completely on the carpeted floor, pooling around his stilettos. Taehyung stepped out of his clothes daintily and with an expert flick of his ankle, lifted the underwear by the heel, bending his leg back, the cloth hanging precariously at the cap of his heel. “Like what you see?”Jungkook could only nod, eyes zeroed in on the scrap of cloth swaying gently on Taehyung’s foot. Picking it up with his fingers, he threw it in Jungkook’s face, laughing at the startled expression the younger made.

Taehyung turned around and slowly slid back on the bed, spreading his legs and letting Jungkook see _everything_ , his toned stomach, dusky nipples, his flushed cock, twitching and drooling on the crease of his hip. “Come here Kookie, take care of hyung,” he crooned softly, biting his lip and staring at him through his bangs in a way that was completely _obscene_. He beckoned with a finger, legs propped up, balanced perfectly on his heels, staring at him like he was the one eating Jungkook despite presenting himself like a buffet to a starving man.

This fucking _tease_.

Jungkook was completely hypnotized, following Taehyung without a thought, hands catching on Taehyung’s ankles, palm digging into the black straps. If he had his hyung’s lyrical abilities he would have waxed poetic on the sight he could see now, unblemished, perfect, utterly beautiful. As it was he couldn’t speak, forgot how, could only show his appreciation and devotion through actions.

Bruised, rouge colored lips, tracing the ankle strap on Taehyung’s foot. A sharp intake of breath below him, and Jungkook’s lips curled up imperceptibly. His tongue, darting out to taste warm leather and salty flesh, going over the ankle bone. Calves, starting to quiver with impatience and lust, trying to pull him closer, but Jungkook gripped back with the strength of steel, peppering wet, filthy kisses on the curve of Taehyung’s lower leg, mouth dragging its way up. Sucking a bruise on the back of his knee, moving to the other leg, giving it the same, achingly slow treatment. His teeth closed on the strap’s free end, tugging on it suddenly, and Taehyung’s foot _jerked_ , heel striking his shoulder blade and scraping against his skin. 

“You fucking tease,” Taehyung slammed his head against the sheets, audibly panting, elbows straining as he propped himself up, never taking his eyes away, not for a single second. Jungkook smirked, moving into the inner thigh, eyes half-lidded and hazy, glanced at the older on his back, irises blown wide-open as he let him see the way he sucked on his skin, the way it slowly changed colors, light to dark, like leaves during autumn. His hands moved with him, going from ankles to knees to his thighs, forcing them open and letting the older finally wrap his legs around his shoulder and waist. Taehyung was helpless, despite his movements to force Jungkook closer, his fingers grasping for the comforters beneath him, hips leaving the bed despite his efforts, trying to find some measure of relief. “Jungkook _please_ , I’m dying here, don’t make me come just by kissing my legs, I’m never going to live it down if I do—”

“I like your legs, hyung.” Finally, finally, with a final, lingering kiss on the juncture between hip and leg, Jungkook nuzzled his face between Taehyung’s legs, feeling the sticky, dribbling pre-come on his cheek. Taehyung moaned, deep voice loud enough to be heard in the room beside them and Jungkook actually didn’t care if they were hearing them, the door was locked and the night was late enough for the others to be asleep.

Taehyung had filled out completely, thick, pulsing under his lips. He breathed out, deliberately ghosting over the flesh, and it was adorable, how it twitched, begging for attention. Hands were instantly gripping his hair, yanking hard enough to pull out some strands. It _hurt_ , but it didn’t stop the jolt of arousal pooling in his gut, coiling tighter. Fuck, it was hot.

“ _Jeon Jungkook._ ” Taehyung hissed between his teeth, eyes dark and feral, stomach muscles taut and quivering as he rutted against Jungkook’s face, cock slip-sliding against Jungkook’s slightly parted lips. Jungkook could taste him, bitter and salty and sweet and totally, uniquely _him_. His lips darted out, addicted to it, wanted to taste more of it. “Jerk me off or blow me, but if you don’t do anything within the next five seconds I’m going to— _oh_ —!”

Taehyung always did speak too much.

Jungkook kept his jaw open, swallowing the length without too much difficulty, Taehyung’s hips jutting up into the mouth that tormented his cock, breathing loudly. Jungkook held his hips down, throwing one arm over the older’s abdomen, choking a little in surprise, back arching when the thin heels dug deep into his back, into bone, groaning his own ecstasy. His still clothed groin was rubbing against the bed, desperately taking some of the edge off, but he concentrated on Taehyung’s pleasure instead, heavy and musky on his tongue. Lips wrapped themselves around the head, bore down, and suckled noisily, saliva dripping down because he hadn’t perfected this, not yet, the action sloppy, wet, dirty.

“Jungkook, _ah_ —oh fuck…” Taehyung was _loud_ , thighs quivering, feet scrabbling and down Jungkook’s neck and back, making networks of red, crisscrossing roads on his flesh, scrabbling for a desperate hold, and Jungkook was losing himself in the sensation of mixed pain and pleasure, intensified by the occasional throb of pain where the heel dug in too deeply into his skin. He couldn’t move, couldn’t make himself move, trapped between the lock of Taehyung’s legs and the constant sting that heightened the sensations just a little bit more.

His hand was on the base, jerking what his mouth couldn’t reach with fluid, corkscrew motions. He pulled back, until the tip barely remained, and increased his pace, friction all too smooth as liquid fire burned on his skin, back stinging. His tongue dug into the slit, smearing it around, drinking the generous amount of fluid going down his throat, and Taehyung _shrieked_ , voice reaching an entirely new octave that showed his ability as a singer. Jungkook was impressed and hummed his approval, the vibrations making Taehyung’s body jump off the bed in shock. “Kookie, I’m gonna come, fuck, more, _Christ_ —” He was close, Jungkook could feel it, tension building under his muscles, because he had teased and tortured him for far too long. He stopped, loosening his hand, pulling away with a wet, filthy _pop_ , and felt Taehyung tear out his hair completely as he slammed his fist on the sheets in utter frustration.

“Hyung.” It was completely cheeky, disrespectful, but he wanted to hear the older beg. Wanted to tease him a little, wanted to see how desperate he was. “You okay?”

Taehyung was beyond all reasoning. “You are such a fucking asshole, please, Kookie _please_ , let me come…” Taehyung pleaded, meeting Jungkook’s eyes as fingers turned feather-light, barely stroking his wet, dripping cock. Fuck age superiority, fuck everything else, if he didn’t come right now he was going to die. “Put a finger in me, don’t tease, you little _shit_ …” He whimpered, completely flushed from head to toe, Daegu-accent almost slurred as he begged for release.

“Not a nice thing to say.” Jungkook smiled toothily and winced when Taehyung forced his foot down on his shoulder blades, body shuddering at the spike of pain and barely-there pleasure.  His voice was completely hoarse, wrecked, and he was going to get hell for this by his managers, but it was worth it, seeing Taehyung so close to breaking point. “I’ll make you come now, okay?” His hand was wet as he pulled it away, fingers sticking to each other, and it was good enough, Jungkook too impatient to get anything else.

A finger teased between Taehyung’s cheeks, running up and down gently, searching for that small pucker of skin. Jungkook’s mouth found Taehyung’s cock again, drooling on it as he multitasked, the tip of his finger breaching Taehyung’s insides slowly, wiggling in gradually and softly swearing at the instant pressure and heat surrounding him. God, it was unimaginable. “Hyung, relax. You’re too tight.” He mouthed against the moving length, tongue sweeping up and down with broad strokes, like licking a popsicle stick. Taehyung keened, hips canting to swallow Jungkook’s finger to the knuckle, letting him feel tight heat, wet and pliant. “God…”

“Don’t care, just _fuck me_ ,” Taehyung growled back, fingers reaching to card through Jungkook’s hair again, patting his scalp as if to apologize for pulling at his head earlier. Jungkook followed his wishes, sliding his finger in and out, slowly at first, exploring the velvety walls, feeling Taehyung clench around his finger and imagining it on his own cock, with all that tight, pulsing pressure, was enough to make Jungkook groan as well.  One finger became two, and Jungkook twisted his fingers, trying to look for that one spot, at the top, about a knuckle and a half in…

“Jungkook!” Taehyung shouted, violently jolting, eyes glassy, chest heaving with heavy breaths.

_Jackpot._

His back was stinging badly, his hand was cramping, and his jaw was aching but Jungkook didn’t stop this time, aiming his fingers precisely. Harder. Faster. Taehyung’s body was rippling in tension, attempting to thrust forward, push downward, in an aching attempt to grind, spark friction, give his own cock something to rut against apart from Jungkook’s fleeting, barely-there mouth while his insides were stimulated to the very last strands of his self-control. Taehyung’s eyes fluttered closed and his fingers curled up into tight fists, but he was not resisting Jungkook—not now, god, not when he’s in so much heat and need and fucking vertigo. Legs were closing in, over Jungkook’s head but he forced them apart, lying on one while keeping the other at bay with his other hand, leaving everything exposed for his use.  “Kook, I’m—oh, don’t—I can’t—!” He sobbed.  

“Can you come, hyung?” Puffs of warm breath surrounded Taehyung’s length, Jungkook looking at Taehyung’s face, at his expressions, not wanting to miss the exact moment Taehyung would shatter in his arms. “Come on,” his wrist pushed back, fingers screwing the older into oblivion, Taehyung’s insides slick enough to create fissures of pleasurable sparks, dancing along his skin.  “Come for me.” He whispered, “I want to see you fall apart.”  Jungkook swallowed him completely again, going down as far as he could reach, tightening his throat and pulling him closer and closer to the edge. He could see it, the way Taehyung’s body twisted, the way Taehyung’s eyes darkened so visibly it was almost black, the way his body trembled, hold back, hold _back_ , every cell of his body seemed to scream.

“Kookie, I-I’m gonna—!” Until finally, it came, fast and  _tight_  and Taehyung was wracked with tremors, in helpless futility when Jungkook literally got him in the palm of his hand, shaking his senses and spiralling Taehyung down _hard_ into a sudden plummet. “Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook—!” He’s falling, dropping deep with the shock-hot trip of his climax. Taehyung gasped, thighs spasming as he arched into Jungkook’s soft mouth, squeezed around his fingers, eyes unseeing as the blank-white nothing overtaking his body.

The surge of Taehyung’s body, the complete and utter vulnerability of his expression as he gave in, surrendered to the pleasure Jungkook gave him, was a vision Jungkook would never forget. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in his life. He helped the older through it, massaging the quivering length gently, moaning at the splash of hot liquid staining his tongue and throat. He couldn’t swallow it all, some dripping at the corner of his lips to the stained comforter below, his eyes dark and wild with satisfaction. Taehyung’s legs finally released him, falling listlessly beside him, twitching a little as the older tried to catch his breath. A sliver of eye peeked at him and Jungkook pressed a thumb against his bottom lip, catching some of Taehyung’s essence, suckling on it, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.

That seemed to make Taehyung return from wherever plane he was drifting on.

“Come here, come _here_ —” Taehyung demanded, breathless, as he sat up and tackled Jungkook down on the bed, kissing him quick and filthy, swiping some of his come and tasting himself in Jungkook’s tongue. He wasted no time, moving down Jungkook’s body that made him dizzy, everything more amplified and concentrated, suddenly feeling too feverish, too small inside his skin. The front of his boxers was damp and sticky and every minute move had him shuddering, feeling like a bomb ready to go off any second.  

“Hyung, hyung, _shit_ …!” The sensation of a hot, wet mouth on him, through the cloth, was a shock, and Jungkook’s senses instantly overloaded with sensation, hips riding the crest of pleasure like a wave. Taehyung didn’t let him breathe, didn’t give him a chance to, peeling off the sticky clothing just to reveal his messy erection. He slacking his jaw open as wide as it could possibly be before hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head down, taking Jungkook in one deep swallow.    

His back arched, head smashing against the sheets as his hips stuttered against the suction. Hot, wet, so _good_ , he didn't expect how good it felt, how perfect Taehyung’s lips were wrapped around his cock and just— _taking_  it. 

“Hyung, Taehyung, _ah_ —” The skin of his back was white-hot, rubbing against the cotton with such delicious pain it was maddening, and before he knew it his hands were on those short locks, running his fingers through Taehyung’s scalp, a mantra of  _don't stop_ , _don't stop_ , _so good_ , and  _Taehyung_  running again and again in his mind. It was too much. Too deep. Jungkook made a strangled sound in his throat, hands clenching and not on the older’s hair, unsure if he could just... grab his head and make him choke on his cock. It was as if his body has a mind of their own, hips wanting to bury themselves in tight, suffocating heat but at the same time he didn't want it to stop.

"Hyung, I'm gonna—!" He had been strung out for far too long, it wasn’t going to last, but Taehyung swallowed him deeper, buried his nose on trimmed, dark curls, throat constricting around him like a wet, pulsing massage. “Hyung, I’m gonna _come_ —!" He gasped, so so _close_ , and made the mistake of meeting Taehyung’ eyes at that right moment.

The older winked, before sucking hard, and Jungkook was lost, coming in a delirious mess, lips and tongue never seizing their movement even as his body sparked like a live-wire, shuddering out its climax. Taehyung’s name was gasped on his lips with the desperation of one breathing again for the first time, mind blanking out, vision simple white noise.

He collapsed on the bed, body going through the aftershocks as he gave a breathless inhale. 

He had nothing. Absolutely nothing.

When Jungkook finally came to, it was to the older wiping away the sweat and semen on his stomach with a cold cloth, pinpricks of coolness pulling him away from the drunken-haze his mind was in. The shoes were also off, stashed away in the corner of the room in its little home, leaving Taehyung barefooted and naked as he wiped Jungkook off patiently.

“Hyung.” He said, honorific slurred out as he tried to remember what happened. Did he pass out? “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Kookie. You should be worried about yourself instead.” Taehyung answered with a soft laugh, finishing up quickly and tossing the washcloth on the basin placed on top of the side table. “You okay? Brain still in there?” His voice sounded like he gargled with shattered glass, raspy and raw, and if Jungkook wasn’t so exhausted he would’ve perked up at that voice alone.

“Yeah. I think.” He willed his legs to move. His body. Anything. But the bone-deep satisfaction bled his body into the sheets, and nothing short of puppetry was going to make Jungkook move from his spot. His limbs were all tangled and loose and he wouldn't even notice if it came off his body. He didn't know what time it was, but it was probably late. Late enough that they should be both sleeping if they wanted to be functional in the morning. But Jungkook was content to be wrestled back into the bed with Taehyung, snuggling beside him while Taehyung tucked his body beside his, throwing the dirty covers over them.

“Manager-hyung’s going to going to scold you.” Jungkook muttered, fingers tracing the purpling mark at Taehyung’s collarbone. Fuck. He forgot. No marks.

“Whose fault is that?” Taehyung yawned, already halfway unconscious as his eyes slipped shut. “Worry about your back more.”

Jungkook would ask what he meant, but the moment he blinked his eyes open, their alarm was blaring and one of the members were banging on the door, telling them to wake up.

(His back was a disaster of thin cuts and bruises. His stylist-noona fainted, the members wore blank, horrified, disbelieving expressions the rest of the day, and Taehyung was simply humming, crossing his heeled feet across Jungkook’s lap once again.)

**Author's Note:**

> And this is the much-requested sequel (interquel?) of this series. I'm so sorry, I cannot write porn for porn's sake, let me die in a puddle of shame because I can't write porn for shit and reserve me a first-class ticket to hell for making this. Seriously, why did I even write this?
> 
> Music inspiration for this is House of Cards and Dead Leaves. 
> 
> Enjoy.


End file.
